


red & gray

by kimlipssi



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Anxiety, Blood, Death Eater Jungeun, F/F, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, I guess it's 2018 and they're both in their 30s, Modern Era, Self-Harm, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:34:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22305022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimlipssi/pseuds/kimlipssi
Summary: Jungeun tries to run away from the past. Jinsoul, a healer by heart and profession, gets her to make peace with it.
Relationships: Jung Jinsol | Jinsoul & Kim Jungeun | Kim Lip, Jung Jinsol | Jinsoul/Kim Jungeun | Kim Lip
Comments: 16
Kudos: 87





	red & gray

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration: Kim Lip's dark/edited # teaser https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EOdtX1QX0AEJb_a?format=jpg
> 
> Please do consider the tags/warnings. I realize this is a sensitive topic and I took care to deal with it appropriately. I am satisfied with the outcome, I hope you are too.

It’s been twenty years since Jungeun faked her own death during the battle of Hogwarts - twenty years since abandoning her past and her namesake and fleeing to America. And it’s been exactly twenty years since the Magical Congress of America has put her under surveillance and monitored her every move.

This continent is different. The prejudices of blood ancestry don’t run nearly as rampant here as they do in the English wizarding world. But the racist attitudes and the immense number of bureaucratic hurdles imposed by the Magical Congress on its subjects more than make up for it.

Ever since arriving here as a teenager, Jungeun’s had to submit her wand and apply for a permit for a new one since her previous one had been “tainted by dark magic”. She was held under observation for weeks as Aurors sent by Congress interrogated her and administered different strains of Veritaserum to her. She’s had to endure the mind-numbing and paralyzing pain of the Cruciatus curse as an “Advanced Interrogation Technique”. Despite her tender age at the time, she was an adept Occlumen and had to allow the same wizards who tortured her to penetrate and invade her mind.

Accepting this sheer invasion of privacy and utter disregard for her dignity as necessary was how Jungeun coped with it all. Because it was only after being declared as “not perilous to Wizards and No-majs alike” that she was permitted to practice magic in the new continent and complete her magical education at Ilvermorny.

Life in America is unyieldingly bitter and full of ironies. Jungeun now works for the Department of Auror’s as an advisor - the same department which held her and tortured her when she first arrived here. She’s past most of it and on a normal day, Jungeun can turn a blind eye to the occasional leers and taunts her co-workers direct at her. She can ignore the Aurors who are always on stand-by, watching as she performs even the most mundane of tasks, like picking up her coffee or doing her groceries.

But today wasn’t an ordinary day, it was the anniversary of the day her body was besmirched with the mark that covered most of her left forearm. Jungeun sighs as she lies in bed, unable to sleep. She picks at the self-inflicted scars covering the entirety of her dark-mark as she replays the words her coworker had spat in her face earlier in a meeting,

 _“What would a foreigner know about our ways? Do you think we’ve forgotten what you’re hiding up your sleeve, Kim?”,_ When all she had done was present research on how ineffective and outdated the current system’s “Advanced Interrogative Techniques” were; and advocated for the abolishment of the death penalty in favor of adopting reformative methods to deal with troubled wizards.

 _A Foreigner._ That’s what she’ll always be in this continent. Jungeun can physically feel how restless her mind is, she can feel it in the way her neck has constricted and how her scars are itching for contact. She gets up abruptly, out of the comforter and places both feet firmly on the ground while still sitting on the bed. She rubs her forehead with her wrists because she hates what she’s about to do next. But it’s the only way. It’s the only way she knows to rest her nerves and sleep. _Just for tonight,_ she makes a promise with herself to stop but the combination of both new and old wounds on her arm says otherwise.

She summons a blade from attached bathroom. She could use her wand, but she really doesn’t want to explain why or against whom she’s been casting the Sectumsempra curse, when Congress performs one of their “random” checks on her. She holds the blade against her skin, and after a moment of contemplating, sinks it into the offensive tattoo. Her skin tears afresh and a wave of catharsis envelops her. Her thoughts and emotions steadily compartmentalize themselves as she cuts more ugly gashes along the length of her forearm. She sighs again and leans back onto the bed as the fog in her brain clears and thinks of Jinsoul.

Jinsoul. Her precious and only light at the end of the tunnel. She didn’t anticipate how estranged she’d become in America. Because no matter how bad England was, she at least had the confidence and company of other fellow Slytherins who were forced into the same boat as her by the same accident of birth. Jungeun had almost made peace with living in isolation when she ran into Jinsoul at the apothecary when she went to buy some healing potion one day.

_“It’s just a birthmark, kind of embarrassing.”_ Jungeun had told the older woman on one of their dates when Jinsoul asked her about her bandages. Calling it a birthmark was technically not an incorrect way to describe it, Jungeun figures. It’s a hell of a lot better than the truth. Because the painful truth is that Jungeun was a victim of her family’s traditions. She never wanted the dark mark, let alone to join the ranks of the death eaters. She vividly remembers the day of her 16th birthday when her parents had threatened her life. How they first restrained her - and when that didn’t work - how they had held her down using the Imperius Curse as the Dark Lord branded her against her will. All because she had come of age and it was customary, an honour infact, for the firstborn child of the Kims to carry this terror inducing abomination on their bodies.

Jungeun tried everything in her power to remove it. After exhausting every healing and concealing spell and potion she knew of or could find, she mutilated herself. First the skull, then the snake. Slowly but surely, she lacerated her skin till she could barely see the mark anymore through all the blood and bruises. This mark was the only reminder of her past life, and she was desperate to cleanse herself of it.

Letting her blood soak into her sheets and clothes, she lies there for good portion of an hour, her mind bouncing in between images of Jinsoul, images of her childhood, of Hogwarts, of Ilvermorny, and images of Jinsoul again. It’s when Jinsoul fully takes over her train of thought that guilt begins to settle in. She wishes she could tell her, she wishes she could tell Jinsoul the truth. But what would she think? Would she understand? She can’t risk losing Jinsoul, not when she’s hinted at wanting to settle down and the thought actually makes Jungeun’s slow-beating heart flutter. But Jinsoul deserves to know, and when Jungeun eventually does tell her, would she still want to stay?

She tugs and pokes at her the clots which are forming till the pain from her wounds finally begins to register and figures that that should be enough for tonight. She gets up from the bed and decides to deal with the mess afterwards. _Nothing a little magic can’t fix._

Jungeun realizes she’s run out of healing potion when she opens the bathroom cabinet. It’s not a big deal, on nights like these she lets her wounds breathe a little anyways. It takes the edge off her anxiety when her brain is occupied with the physical pain in her arm. She tries to patch herself up quickly, but the cuts are a little too deep this time. _Maybe I do need the potion…_

But it’s fine, she tries again and haphazardly does the job and holds her now bandaged arm against the light to take a look. It’s rough and little red spots will soon seep towards the outer layers but it’s fine. She smiles a little and wonders how Jinsoul would do the same task? Jinsoul, a healer by both heart and profession, would never let Jungeun mutilate herself like this. Jinsoul would scold her, and they’d both probably cry while Jinsoul took care of her. Jinsoul tries, she tries so hard, if only Jungeun would let her.

Washing the sink, Jungeun wonders when Jinsoul would return home from her night-shift at St. Josiah’s hospital. She’s probably busy, Jungeun speculates, trying to reattach an amputated finger or reversing the effects of an ill-targeted curse, _the usual business._ Exiting the bathroom, she expected to be greeted by the same empty bedroom, and definitely not one where Jinsoul would be standing by the bed in the same spot that Jungeun herself occupied a few minutes ago, staring at the red which stained the sheets and pillows.

Jinsoul turns at Jungeun’s approach, her eyes glossy and panicked. Jinsoul’s eyebrows are doing their thing as she looks back and forth between the blood, Jungeun, and the fresh bandage on Jungeun’s left arm.

“I- I can explain-,” Jungeun pleads, but Jinsoul won’t let her.

“Take it off,” Jinsoul’s voice is too cold for Jungeun to bear. _It’s over, it’s really over,_ her mind chants to her as she shrinks in on herself. Jinsoul’s eyes won’t budge from her godforsaken arm, she won’t look _at_ her. _Not like this. Anything but this._

 _“_ Jinsoul, please-” Jungeun’s cries are cut off again when Jinsoul steps forward. Jungeun wants nothing but for the older woman to take her into her arms but she's just out or arms reach and won't move any closer. Jungeun wishes she had a timeturner, she wishes she could erase this moment from both their memories.

“Jungeun, I need to see.” Jinsoul demands again, but softer this time in a voice laced with concern. With trembling hands Jungeun begins to slowly unwrap the bandage. Once it falls to the floor, Jinsoul delicately pulls her arm up by the wrist and takes the sight in.

The length of Jungeun’s forearm from the middle to the crook of her elbow is covered in horrible, ugly scratches. The dark mark is almost invisible, hidden behind the scars and has faded considerably, after all it has been a little over two decades since the Dark Lord was finally defeated. Jungeun is crying, teardrops trickle down her face and land around her own feet. She can’t muster up the strength to look into her lover’s eyes as the healer examines her, her own eyes fixed firmly on Jinsoul’s shoes instead. To ease Jungeun's shaking and sobs, Jinsoul begins to rub the wrist she was holding with the pad of her thumb.

“I didn’t mean to- I never wanted-,” Jungeun chokes out through sobs and hiccups. Jinsoul shushes her again, using her free hand to lift up Jungeun’s face by the chin. Jungeun still won’t meet her eyes, so she wipes away the free-flowing tears as best as she can and cups her cheek. “Look at me,” Jinsoul whispers.

Jungeun finally does. “You don’t have to explain anything, I trust you. We can fix this.” She wipes her tears again. It’s in the way Jinsoul words juxtapositions _both_ of them _together_ in the _future_ that Jungeun’s breathing normalizes and she leans into her lover’s touch. Vary of the injured arm, Jinsoul carefully pulls the younger woman into a much-needed hug. She rubs warm, consolatory circles on Jungeun back as the younger woman cries into her neck and shoulders. It takes a while for Jungeun to calm down, and when she does, Jinsoul puts just enough space in between them to make eye contact.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

-

It turns out that Jinsoul had already known about Jungeun’s secret for a while, a long while actually. Congress Aurors had made sure that she was aware of Jungeun’s “affiliation with dark wizards” and how “reports about her activities would be greatly appreciated” for the “greater good of wizards and no-majs alike”. Congress agents had begun to regularly visit Jinsoul at the hospital to perform background checks when they had first started dating nearly three years ago. Jinsoul refused to cooperate of course, there was simply nothing to report on. Jungeun was her sweetheart and she wouldn't hurt a fly, let alone be involved in something as insidious as dark magic. But Jinsoul also couldn’t bring it up with Jungeun, it just wasn’t her place to ask.

However it was news to her that Jungeun was tormenting herself over a mark that was barely visible against the dark red gashes. Jinsoul had her suspicions though, because Jungeun would flinch or back away whenever she touched her there accidentally or otherwise. But she figured the trauma was more mental than physical, and as her lover and healer, she felt stupid for not realizing it sooner.

But Jungeun felt even more stupid, because in all her worries and insecurities, her mind failed to process and acknowledge the fact that Jinsoul’s parents had fled England too, when the Dark Lord was first defeated in the attack on Godric’s Hollow.

“But they weren’t death eaters, Soul.” Jungeun reasons.

“And neither were you.” Jinsoul reassures.

-

Through a combination of both magical and no-maj pharmaceutical treatments, Jinsoul fixes Jungeun’s arm. The mark is barely a whisper on her skin, and her scars have almost completely healed thanks to something called “plastic surgery”. Jungeun still isn't sure how it works, but Jinsoul does so it’s okay. Dark magic lingers, so the mark hasn’t completely disappeared but Jungeun doesn’t feel the need to cover it up anymore. She hasn’t touched a blade since Jinsoul made her take her bandages off on her birthday that night. And she hasn’t felt the itch to hurt herself ever since Jinsoul asked her to marry her a few months later on her own birthday the same year.

Congress has stopped pestering her now that she’s “assimilated to life in America”.

Jungeun is in love. She’s happily married. Jinsoul didn’t waste any time in starting a family, and Yerim is an angel.

She finally feels at home.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay I know Death Eaters were part of voldy's "inner circle", only his most trusted confidants were bestowed with the mark. And deviating just a little from canon is exactly what fanfiction is for.
> 
> This work is loosely based on something I experienced recently and covers how I would've liked to deal with the situation in an ideal world. I don't intend to disturb or shock any readers, the main theme of the work is comfort and healing and coming to terms with reality. I didn't realize earlier but I really did inadvertently start writing LipSoul to process some personal problems. I hope that maybe some other other hurt souls could also take something positive away from my writing.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Desperately in need of some positive reinforcement rn. Please leave a <3
> 
> And i know this isnt the same series but #StopLipsoulAngst2020


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